


As The Light Fades

by fangwulf



Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22914523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangwulf/pseuds/fangwulf
Summary: Warning: Spoilers for Episode 88.As the party is split and halflings go on a date with the worst chaperone ever, one of the two gets a birds eye view of the Apocalypse.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	As The Light Fades

The dull ache that overwhelmed Erlin's chest overtook any sense of overwhelming pride he had felt. He had been feeding on Bev's courage, his resistance to the spell that the Goddess had tried to cast on him.

The Paladin had resisted a God, and it cost him so dearly. 

His voice, crying from the ceiling, couldn't be heard through the whoosh of fireballs, the clanging of steel. It was too much. Far too much for him. He wanted to cover his ears, to close his eyes until he could see nothing but red sparks behind his eyes, like he had after his parents had been killed. Curl into a ball until the world moved around him, leaving him behind. He felt helpless. So incredibly helpless. He'd used all of his strength to croak out in support and now he had nothing left.

All he could do was watch as Bev fought. Those eyes he'd stared into so often turning dull, heady. Tired. That grin when he was plotting something mischievous, as he so often did, pressed into a silent, focused frown. That hanging head full of hair bloodied and stiff. He wanted to run his hands through one last time. That sword tip that had pointed so defiantly, that had actually taken down three of the Chosen swarming him before they overwhelmed him, slack and to the floor of the cavern that had been their web. He wanted to say something. Anything. Anything else. He prayed. He prayed to Pelor to keep Bev alive, strong, to let him get up.

The sound of the butt of Thiala's sword hitting the halfling's skull made the last of his hope vanish from his eyes. As Bev crumpled to the floor, he was only dimly aware that the floor was getting larger as he was carefully lowered to the ground. It was almost gentle, and that was the most unexpected bit of all. Immediately, his arms were grabbed, as he tried to yank his way towards the fallen Paladin. His arms burned as he fought against the strength of his foes, against his own exhaustion, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "Please let me heal him, I can heal him, please..."

The Goddess' eyes, bright and blue, and burning with power stolen from the nine Hells, looked back, as she turned. The movement was as inexorable as a force of nature could be. Her sword was still out. His eyes flicked to the hilt of the blade. Bev's blood was still there from where she'd hit him. A dart of a glance towards the Paladin being lifted by his arms. His loose, bare feet dragging on the ground behind him. 

_He was breathing._

Erlin let out an exhale of relief. Bev was alive. In this pit of despair, even in this room where they'd been tricked, trapped into this spider's web. Even with the Goddess herself approaching him. Even with his eyes barely able to adjust to her light, in this dark place. The small upturn of the corner of his mouth. The dirt and grime and blood of battle still covering his freckles. That flop of orange hair covering one green eye. He was alive. There was hope indeed.

She reached for his chin, and lifted it. Sharp fingernails dug into his chin as she forced the halfling to look her in the eyes. He was tired. So very, very tired. The Jubilex, the overwhelming loss of Gunther, the separation from everyone he'd known and loved. That light still shone in his heart. The Chosen holding him released his arms, as if they knew he couldn't fight any more. They didn't need to. Thiala was far strong enough to keep him from escaping on her own.

She inspected him, as a cat might inspect a mouse. Or perhaps there was something more. Perhaps there was some sort of underlying reasoning for it. He had to think of something. Of anything. Then, the most unexpected thing happened. Her eyes softened. Visibly. The light was still there, of course. She glowed in this place of otherwise utter darkness. A beacon of light. 

She smiled. It was almost a calming presence, as she brushed the curly hair from his eye as a mother might. "You really do love him, don't you?"

He started to respond, to open up his mouth for a word, but the sudden grip of his hair, and that pain in his chest. His eyes flicked down, to see the steel sticking straight through him. Her hand holding it. Her eyes focused. Inexorable as a force of nature. It was one thrust. She was so strong, he couldn't help but think, as he felt the point shove through his back. He tried to pray, but the breath was sucked from his lungs.

She watched him, dropped him to the ground unceremoniously, and turned to walk away. Everything hurt. He tried covering the wound, but his spells were spent. His shaking hand was yanked back from the gaping wound in his chest. It only took one Chosen to yank him along. A human, with large angel's wings on his back, dragging him along the ground. 

His eyes focused, tried to, on the fading back of the last light in the room. Thiala. Walking away, flicking the blood from her pristine, glowing greatsword. 

And as the light slowly faded from his sight.

So too did everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this on from perspective! So don't worry, I won't just write bleak stuff, honest.


End file.
